


The Long Way Home (AKA The Three Times John finds Bane And The One Time Bane Finds John)

by pinkys_creature_feature



Category: Batman (Movies - Nolan), Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Alley Sex, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Breathplay, Canon Compliant, Dominate Bane, Happy Ending, John Makes Questionable Life Choices, M/M, Semi-Public Sex, Unsafe Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-06
Updated: 2018-06-06
Packaged: 2019-05-18 20:13:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,269
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14859506
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pinkys_creature_feature/pseuds/pinkys_creature_feature
Summary: During the occupation of Gotham, John unwittingly gets pulled into a game of cat and mouse.





	1. Part 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [heyitsamorette (AmoretteHD)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AmoretteHD/gifts).



> This is for the lovely heyitsamorette! 
> 
> My prompt was "cat and mouse game". I hope you like it!! Thanks so much to Brookbond for the cheering and Deinvati for the beta and cheer reading! Without you guys this fic could have never happened!

John waited in his squad car for the right moment. He’d hatched the plan the day after Gordon had gone down into the sewers. He had been here every night for the last three days tonight was the night. There was no turning back now. 

 

John was going down there this time. He was going to find whoever had shot Gordon and he was going to- well, arrest them, was the first thought. The second wasn’t one he should entertain. 

 

John took a deep breath and decided that it was now or never. He was as quiet as he could be as he slipped under the police tape and lifted the manhole cover. John hesitated before mustering the courage to descend the ladder into the sewers. Pulling out his flashlight, he glanced around, trying to get his bearings. There were faint footprints in the muck on the floor, probably Gordon’s and the other cops, so he set to following them. 

 

The path twisted and turned before there were signs of a struggle and deep ruts in the mud. “This must be where they grabbed Gordon,” John thought, taking the split to the left. 

 

The tunnels were still— so silent that John wondered if whatever was down there had left, frightened off by Gordon. 

 

John made another turn and he could just make out light further down the tunnel. At first, he thought it might have been a reflection from his flashlight, but as he got closer, he could tell that it was an industrial flood light. He could hear the sound of running water all around him, but the tunnels were relatively dry. 

 

    John was startled by the sound of heavy footsteps coming closer and he quickly clicked off his flashlight and tucked himself as tightly against the wall as he could, willing the person not to see him. 

 

    A man in military clothing carrying an AK-47 walked past the opening of the tunnel, stopping for a moment, glancing in John’s direction before moving away. He listened as the man’s footsteps disappeared before sneaking to the opening and poking his head around the corner. 

 

    John was shocked by the large open area, the sound of running water was much louder here.  As he looked around the cavernous area it appeared to be a concentration point for the storm drains, probably heading out to where Gordon was found. The guard, or whomever he’d seen, was nowhere to be found and the area was empty except for tools and other debris. 

 

    Whoever had been here was working on something; wires crept up the walls centering in the dome of the ceiling. 

 

    John didn’t understand.  Why would they have a guard patrolling an empty tunnel? Maybe it wasn’t as empty as it seemed. John investigated a bit further, finding bullet casings on the floor alongside a blood stain that was far too large to be from Gordon. Other than the tools, the place had been cleaned out. 

 

    John sighed and poked around a bit more, trying to find any clues he could to lead him in the right direction. He still wasn’t sure what he was looking for, but he knew there was something he needed to find. 

 

    The sound of the water blotted out the thud of boots behind him, but when a large shadow appeared, John’s heart leapt into his throat. John stood slowly from his crouch, daring to glance over his shoulder. 

 

    The man was more like a monster, huge and looming over John. The mask over his face looked like the snarling mawl of a beast. Intelligent grey eyes studied him with amusement.  Danger radiated from the man, and John’s instincts kicked in. Before he could think, John was on his feet, bolting toward the tunnel he came in through. 

 

    John skidded around corners as he ran as quickly as he could. He nearly collapsed when he crawled out of the manhole, laying on his back on the grimy pavement. His chest burned as he gasped for breath, blinking up at the few stars not drowned out by light pollution. 

 

    They had let John go. 

 

    The realization hit him like a ton of bricks. There was no reason they couldn’t have stopped him from escaping; the guard had a gun, he could have shot John easily.

 

     He was being played with. 

 

    John took several detours on his way home. Just in case he was being followed. 

 


	2. Part 2

John watched the news as Bane stood on top of the tumbler, orating as he freed the prisoners from Blackgate. 

 

He now knew who he had encountered that night in the sewers, and he still marveled at how he escaped alive. His thoughts were distracted by the disappointment he felt in his mentor. Gordon had spread a lie and used it to imprison hundreds of people; it made John sick to look at him.

 

John set out that night to get away from the world going to shit around him, and Gordon, the one person he thought he could trust. He needed space to collect his thoughts.  As John turned the corner, he heard the distinctive sound of a tumbler coming his way. 

 

He quickly ducked into an nearby alley to avoid detection. Bane’s men had enforced a strict curfew and John knew more than one person who had been shot while rummaging for food.  As he waited for the tank to pass, he came up with an idea. It was crazy, but he was feeling reckless tonight, the word was going to shit anyways.

 

John glanced out of the alley to find the tumbler stopped at the next intersection. As quietly as he could, he crept up behind the vehicle and climbed on the back. He did his best to hang on and keep himself from being seen, the rolling blackouts were, thankfully, working in his favor.

 

He tried to take note where he was going, repeating the cross streets to himself, trying to commit them to memory. Mason drive, North street, Higgins ave, Mason drive again. Whoever was driving the tumbler was smart; using a convoluted route to confuse anyone following it. When the tumbler approached a seemingly abandoned warehouse, John waited for a chance and jumped, rolling into the nearby shadows. 

 

The plan John had formulated quickly evaporated when he watched two men climb out and walk into the warehouse.  While the door was open, John could see a large crowd of militia type men inside— too many people inside for him to sneak in. Instead, John found a rusted fire escape stairwell and climbed to the roof. 

 

John found a few sets of busted-out skylights and decided to get as much information as possible. If they knew where Bane’s men were hiding, maybe they could relay the information to Batman… No, Batman was gone. It would have to be him and the few cops left. 

 

John steeled himself and crouched down, trying to pick up any conversation. It seemed that everyone was speaking different languages. He heard a bit of Arabic, Spanish, possibly some French.  He could see several men wearing the orange jumpsuits from Blackgate in the crowd, one or two he remembered arresting himself. 

 

John’s blood ran cold and the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. He felt like he was being watched. Slowly John stood, glancing around to see if he had been discovered. The air was silent —  too silent. He took that as his cue to leave. 

 

John moved toward the fire escape entrance as quickly as he could, avoiding broken glass and debris to stay silent. 

 

He was almost to the access door when he stopped. He could have sworn he heard footsteps. John turned around and ran into something solid. Someone solid. John stumbled back a few steps, a mechanical hiss announced Bane’s presence before he stepped out of the shadows.

 

John retreated until his back hit the brick wall surrounding the stairwell, fear coursing through him. He had almost forgotten just how massive Bane was. 

 

“Leaving so soon, Officer?” Bane asked, amusement clear even through the mask’s distortion.

 

John attempted to get to the fire escape, but was blocked by Bane’s bulk. Bane took a step closer, then another, slowly backing John against the wall. 

 

John swallowed hard as he was boxed in. Bane was so close he could smell gun oil and leather as he rested his hand casually next to John’s head. John steeled himself, looking Bane in the eyes defiantly. 

 

“Such fire,” Bane whispered, cocking his head to the side, watching John curiously. 

 

John’s heart pounded in his chest when Bane’s other hand came to rest on his shoulder, palm ever so gently against his throat. John froze in place, watching Bane’s eyes as his calloused thumb traced across his neck. 

 

John was shocked by the reaction his body was having to the gentleness of Bane’s touch. His breath came in heated gasps, while warmth began to pool in his belly. 

 

Bane studied him for a moment, watching, as he slowly tightened his grip on John’s throat. 

 

John wasn't prepared for the electric reaction he had when Bane squeezed, cutting off his air supply and bringing sparks to his vision. The surprise jolt of pleasure to John’s hardening dick was only slightly panic-inducing.

 

It only lasted a moment, a long terrifying moment, before Bane’s fingers loosened just enough for John to drag some air into his lungs. John gasped greedily, his vision clearing only slightly. 

 

Bane was so close now, his thigh a blinding stripe of heat moving between John’s legs to pin him more securely. John tried to remember his prayers.

 

John finally broke eye contact, squeezing his eyes shut, waiting for Bane to make the final blow. What a way to go: strangled by Bane on a rooftop with a hard on. 

 

It never came. Slowly Bane moved away, fingers slipping from John’s neck, letting him slowly slide down the brick wall. When John opened his eyes, Bane was gone. 

 

John took only a moment to look around before he scurried to the fire escape, tearing down the steps, not worried about being quiet anymore. John was gasping, his back pressed against his front door before he realized he had been let go again. Bane was like a cat playing with a mouse, waiting for the most satisfying moment to take his prey.

 

That night John dreamt of strong hands around his throat as he rutted against his mattress, his gasping breath wetting his pillow. 

 


	3. Part 3

It was less than a week before the bomb was supposed to go off, killing everyone in Gotham. Gordon had him tracking and marking the path of each truck, trying to figure out which one had the bomb and what routes they were taking. 

 

It was getting dark when he thought he saw a woman with flowing brown hair disappear down an alley a few blocks ahead of him. Curious, John followed, sure that he must have been seeing things. It wasn’t safe for anyone to be out at this time, much less women.

 

As he made his way down the block, the lights flickered out, plunging John into near darkness. John cursed; the blackouts had been coming more often the last few weeks as power plants ran out of fuel. 

 

John glanced down the alley and at first could only see the faint outline of two people in the shadows. John crept closer slipping behind a dumpster about 20 feet in, willing his eyes to adjust to the low light. There were no sounds of distress, maybe lovers meeting in the night?  

 

John decided it wasn’t any of his business and turned to leave the alley when a very familiar feeling settled over him, stopping him in his tracks. He was being watched. John’s nostrils flared as his breathing picked up, adrenaline coursing through his veins. He jumped when one of the shadowy figures bolted past him. John turned just in time to see the outline of a woman disappearing around the corner. 

 

The other figure seemed to loom larger in the shadows, standing silently. 

 

There was an electric hum as the lights flickered on, revealing Bane, towering in front of him. John let out a stream of shocked curses surging backward, staggering further into the alley. 

 

Bane followed him casually, stalking his prey. John turned to run but found himself at a dead end, his escape blocked by a brick wall. 

 

“Shit!” John yelled, pounding his hands against the wall. He turned back to find Bane on him, pressing him into the wall. 

 

“Where are you going, John Blake?” Bane gripped the back of John’s neck, gently but with purpose. “Or should I say ‘Officer’?” 

 

John shivered as Bane’s fingers glided over his skin, closing around his throat. He squeezed gently at first, then adding more pressure, cataloging John’s reaction. John felt color rising in his face as he fought to breathe, his fingers gripping Bane’s shoulder with white knuckles. Bane chuckled, a oddly mechanical sound, as he loosened his grip enough to let John gulp in a breath.

 

John cleared his throat, hoping his voice wouldn’t shake. “What do you want?” 

 

“That is a question I should be asking you.” Bane punctuated his statement by brushing his thigh between John’s legs, finding his cock hardening in his jeans. 

 

“Fuck,” John spat, sparks going off behind his eyes, his hips giving an involuntary roll. 

 

Bane hummed, squeezing John’s throat again, just enough to make it hard to breathe. He watched with a heated gaze as John’s back arched away from the wall, pressing against him. 

 

John realized Bane was hard too. The thought drew a whine from his lips. Maybe he was going insane, but John went with it. He would be dead in a week anyway, right? 

 

Throwing caution to the wind, John wrapped his legs around Bane’s waist, gripping tightly. Bane refused to release John’s neck, instead using his free hand to slip under John’s shirt. 

 

John was panting as he worked his own shirt buttons open, the cold air such a contrast to his heated skin. Bane’s hand was like a firebrand on his skin, learning every inch of him. 

 

Bane help his grip on John’s neck, stroking his index finger along his bottom lip. John slipped the finger past his lips sucking and licking around his thick digit. Bane gave an answering growl, rutting himself between John’s legs. 

 

John could feel Bane’s cock pressing against him and his eyes nearly rolled back into his head. John struggled to get his jeans open, nearly breaking the zipper in his haste. 

 

John pulled his cock free, moaning as he gave himself a few strong strokes. Bane watched and John thrust up into his own hand, his bottom rubbing firmly over Bane’s hard length. 

 

    Bane used his free hand to gather precome from the head of John’s cock, offering it to John’s lips. His tongue slipped out, tasting himself on Bane’s fingers. 

 

    “Lick,” Bane ordered calmly, holding his palm to John’s lips. He did, wetting Bane’s hand as best as he could without being about to move his head. 

 

    Bane took John’s length in hand squeezing his throat firmly as he stroked. John could hardly breathe and he thrust into that work-calloused hand. Finally, Bane cut off his breath, and it only took a few seconds for John to come harder than he had in his life, screaming silently as he painted his chest and Bane’s hand with come. 

 

    Bane’s hand released him, letting John suck in air as he rode out the last waves of his orgasm.  He only had a few seconds to recover before Bane let him slip bonelessly to the ground. 

 

    John landed on his hands and knees, still trying to get his bearings. Bane watched him catch his breath, looming over him. 

 

    John looked up, seeing the impressive outline of Bane’s cock through his pants. John bit his lip, running his hands up Bane’s legs, telegraphing his next move. John’s fingers were growing stiff from the cold as they worked to free Bane’s cock. 

 

    John’s mouth watered at the size of it, thick and heavy, the head surrounded by soft foreskin. John looked up, meeting Bane’s eyes as he brushed the head against his lips. A low growl rumbled from Bane’s chest as John ran his tongue under the foreskin, taking it between his lips. 

 

    Bane grew impatient, gripping John’s hair, urging more of his cock into John’s mouth. John moaned, looking up as Bane watched his length disappear between John’s lips. 

 

    John gripped Bane’s hips, encouraging Bane to thrust into his mouth. John swallowed, choking as he took Bane into his throat. Saliva dripped from John’s lips as he tried to take the last few inches. 

 

    Bane moaned, drawing out only to thrust deeper down John’s throat. John’s eyes went wide as he gagged, but when Bane backed off, John grunted, gripping Bane’s thighs. 

 

    Bane slowly fucked John’s mouth, letting John choke himself on his cock. John was a mess, tears streaking his face as he worked Bane closer to completion. 

 

    When Bane’s thrusts became more insistent, John concentrated his efforts on the smooth glans, using both hands to work the rest of his length. 

 

    Bane let out a heavy, shuddering breath, his gut tightening a moment before he released a feral cry, thrusting deep into John’s throat as he came. 

 

    John coughed, swallowing as much as he could, only pulling away when he became light headed. 

 

    John slumped against the wall, spit and come dripping from his chin. Bane was silent as he tucked himself away. He gave John a lingering, questioning look before walking away, leaving John shivering in the cold. 

 

    John didn’t think about what he had just done. He moved automatically, fixing his clothes and wiping his face on his shirt. By the time he made it home, it had started to snow. 

 

    That night he could still taste Bane on his lips. 

 


	4. Part 4

It felt odd to be sleeping in his bed without the threat of the bomb going off hanging over his head. John stared at the ceiling, listening to sounds of the city slowly coming back to life. Tonight the building across the street was throwing a party, welcoming people back home.

 

It had only been a few days since the liberation of Gotham but ferries had been delivering supplies and people took full advantage of the sudden influx of goods. 

 

With a sighed curling on his side, trying to convince himself to fall asleep. He had almost drifted off when there was a heavy thud at his door. 

 

John sat up in his bed, listening for a long moment. Scratching noises finally drew John from his bed. John grabbed a t-shirt and pulled it on, making himself a little more decent. It would be embarrassing to get attacked in just his underwear.

 

John groaned, not having a good feeling about this, and grabbed the baseball bat he kept by his door. When he looked out the peephole, he could see something on the floor but couldn’t tell what it was. Glancing down the hall, it seemed to be empty.

 

John quickly unlocked the door and unhooked the chain. He took a moment to steady himself and tighten his grip on the bat before he yanked open the door.

 

     Shock settled over John when a very familiar form slumped on his floor. 

 

“Bane?” John whispered, almost afraid that saying his name made what was happening real. John could see the mask Bane wore seemed to be smashed or broken, there was a faint hissing from the disconnected tubes. John scanned the hallway again, double checking there wasn’t a crowd of mercenaries waiting to kill him.

 

A low, pained groan slipped from Bane as he began to move, trying to push himself up. It was then John saw the dried blood.There was so much of it, the cloth of Bane’s pants stained dark. John stood there for a moment, thinking he should shove Bane back out the door, let him die in the streets like so many others had during the occupation. But this? This was just a man. A man injured and bleeding on his floor. Even if he had been the terror of Gotham, he couldn’t let someone die if he could help them. 

 

“Okay, you’re okay.”John repeated to himself as he sat the bat down, moving to try and help Bane further inside so he could shut the door. John had to grab ahold on his belt, grunting as he dragged Bane’s legs inside the door and wincing at the pained cry ripped from Bane.

 

     “How did he even find me? Why did he come here?” John wondered as he rushed around grabbing what first aid items he had. 

 

John dumped his arm load on the floor and ran a pot full of warm water. He was hoping for hot but not everything was working correctly in his building yet. He pulled on a pair of gloves and set to assessing how badly Bane was hurt. His first aid training had definitely had a workout during the occupation so he had learned to be prepared.

 

It took a long time for John to work the mangled armor off Bane’s chest, each pained sound from Bane making him wince with sympathy. There were a few pieces embedded in Bane’s skin. John was glad that Bane wasn’t fully conscious, his eyes glazed over and only half open, as he used forceps to pull those pieces free. Fresh blood seeped from the burnt skin.  

 

John took his scissors and cut Bane’s shirt away and cursed as more blood started oozing from the fist-sized wound on his chest. It had to be from that last battle--it was several days old and nearing infection. 

 

    What had he been shot with? He was lucky to be alive. John did his best to clean the wound, seeing that it was bad, but the armor took a lot of the blow. Bane came awake then, grabbing John’s wrist in a bruising grip when he swiped a cloth over the wound. 

 

“Look, if you don’t let me clean it, infection will set in and you will die,” John said calmly, peeling Bane’s fingers from his wrist. 

 

Bane eyed him warily before dropping his hands to his side. He was stoic as John finished cleaning and dressing the wound. John had a single IV of antibiotics he had been saving in case one of the kids needed it.

 

“You don’t have an allergy to antibiotic do you?” John asked, changing his gloves before pulling out his IV kit. 

 

Bane shook his head, watching John’s hands as he connected tubes and took out a butterfly needle. 

 

John was no nurse but during the last few months he had learned how to set a IV, even if it took a try or two. “Sorry,” John muttered, having to try again to hit the vein. He didn’t have a way to hang the bag so he hooked it over the side of his couch, hopping Bane didn’t move too much and dislodge it. 

 

John sat back on his heels, pulling his gloves off and throwing them on the pile of bloody clothes. He looked down at Bane, who seemed to be unconscious again. “I can’t lift you so I guess you are going to sleep here for now.” He reached for a pillow from the couch and carefully lifted Bane’s head to put it underneath. 

 

John took that moment to look closer at the mask. He noticed how hard his hands were shaking as he tried to reconnect some of the tubes. He had no idea what the mask did, but obviously it couldn’t do its job if it was in pieces. 

 

    He tried several times to fix what he could before he finally gave up and tossed an extra blanket over Bane and cleaned up the mess. He was so tired by the time he was done but he wasn’t sure he could sleep with Bane, of all people, sleeping in his floor.

 

John stumbled to his bed, barely getting the blankets over himself before he was asleep. 

  
  


*************

 

John came awake with a start. For a moment he was disoriented until he remembered the night before. John bolted up in his bed only to find Bane sitting against the door frame, looking less sallow from the night before but still pretty rough. 

 

“Wha- What are you doing here?” John asked rubbing his eyes.

 

Bane watched him silently for a moment. “I wanted to see you,” he finally admitted. 

 

“‘Wanted to see me?’ You were… are half dead!” 

 

Bane didn’t respond for a long time. John sighed, slipping out of bed. Bane gently grabbed John’s hand when he tried to walk past. 

 

“I didn’t think I would survive Talia’s plan...When I woke up, the only thought I had was to find you.” Bane’s voice was quiet, hesitant, like he wasn’t sure he wanted to admit what he was saying.

 

“How did you know where I live?” 

 

“I’ve known since the first time in the sewers. I let you find me over and over,” Bane admitted. 

 

“Why?” John asked, sliding to the floor next to Bane. 

 

Bane hesitated, looking John over. “I don’t know. You intrigued me.”

 

John rubbed his forehead, not sure what to think. Bane had been a fixture in John’s thoughts for months and sure that night in the alley had been amazing. It was easily the most reckless thing John had ever done, and it had become first pick in his spank bank over the last two weeks. 

 

“Well, you aren’t going to try and take over Gotham again, are you?” John asked. 

 

“Talia is gone, along with her ambition.” Bane’s eyes turned dark with sadness as he looked away. There was a story there John would have to ask about later, but now was not the time.

 

John felt it was safe to assume that meant Bane was no longer a threat, at least in his current state.  “Well, okay. Let’s change those bandages, you’re bleeding through.” 

 

John retrieved some of his bandages, coming back to try and help Bane to his feet. Bane bit back sounds of pain as John helped him to sitting on his bed. John pulled on a pair of gloves and carefully changed the bandages. 

 

It seemed to look better than the night before-Bane seemed to be healing pretty quickly. Maybe it was something to do with the mask? John shook himself when he was found himself resting his palm against Bane’s chest, feeling his heart beating strong and steady. John cleared his throat and tossed the old bandages away. 

 

When John came back, Bane was where he’d left him. “You can lay down if you need to. I have to go to work in a bit. An occupation didn’t stop my need for income, unfortunately, and the city is paying us double. Do you need something to eat? How do you eat?” 

 

Bane pulled at the straps of the mask, using his good arm to pull it over his head. John was shocked when he saw Bane’s face. In another life he would have been beautiful, in a way he still was. 

 

Scars silvered with age, stretched across his cheeks and lips, his nose had been broken and never healed correctly. “The mask,” Bane began, John hearing his unfiltered voice for the first time. “Makes me stronger, holds back some of the pain from the prison surgeon’s work.” Bane gestured to the large scar along his back. “It’s nearly useless now.” His voice seemed much gentler without the mechanical distortion.

 

John’s heart clenched, Bane had always been this mythical being, unbeatable and strong. But here he was, human after all. A person who feels pain and bares the scars of a hard life for everyone to see. “Is there anything I can do?” he asked quietly. 

 

“No, It will be more difficult without the mask, but I have lived in pain for years. I will survive.” 

 

John didn’t know what else to say so he left Bane to his thoughts, moving around the kitchen to toss together some sort of breakfast. Eventually he was able to make some eggs and toast. He didn’t have any butter yet so he spread peanut butter on the toast. He grabbed two bottles of water on his way out of the kitchen. 

 

John wordlessly offer Bane a plate and sat next to him. It was oddly comfortable sitting next to Bane doing something as mundane as sharing breakfast. 

 

When John left for work, he was half hoping and half afraid that Bane would disappear while he was gone. His shift ran long- they were still trying to bring order to the city which had chaos buzzing around its edges. There were a lot of people still missing who needed to be accounted for. 

 

John was shocked when he walked into his apartment to find Bane lounging in his bed, reading one of his books. He looked up when John came in, his scared lip twitching into a tentative grin. During the day Bane had showered and changed his own bandages at some point, and his color was looking much better. He also apparently found a pair of John’s sleep pants that fit. 

 

“Hi,” John said simply, not sure what else to say. 

 

Bane nodded silently, going back to reading. John showered and dressed for bed. When he came out Bane hadn’t moved and John didn’t have the heart to tell him to leave. When John reached for his pillow, intending to sleep on the couch. Bane stopped him, gently grabbing his hand. 

 

“Sleep. I will not bother you.” 

 

John’s heart raced as he lifted the blankets and slipped in next to Bane. He laid his head on the pillow, trying block out the man sitting next to him. 

 

After a few quiet moments, Bane’s hand came to rest on his head, fingers gently tangling in his damp hair. John stiffened for a second before relaxing into the touch. It was only a few moments before he was asleep. 

 

The next morning John woke up slowly. At some point in the night Bane had lain down next to him and John had draped himself over the larger man. John opened his eyes, his head resting on the uninjured side of Bane’s chest. John was glad Bane was still asleep as he observed him, his morning erection making itself known.

 

An odd feeling came over him. He knew almost nothing about this man but he felt comfortable, almost safe, with him. Thinking back, Bane could have killed him at any point and he admitted that he had ‘let him’ find him. Maybe Bane felt something too?

 

John found himself blushing when Bane’s eyes fluttered open, catching him watching. “Sorry,” John muttered, embarrassed, as he moved to sit up. 

 

“I know my scars are ugly, you don’t have to be embarrassed for staring.” John could feel Bane stiffen, starting to shut down. 

 

“You’re not ugly,” John protested. Bane looked at him with a disbelieving scoff. John  couldn’t think of what to say that would explain what was going on in his head so he went with his instincts and brushed his lips against Bane’s. 

 

Bane sucked in a shocked breath, his hands froze in the act of pushing John away. For a moment John feared he would shove him away, but hesitantly Bane returned the kiss.

 

“What are you doing?” Bane asked against John’s lips. It crossed John’s mind that it must have been a long time since Bane kissed someone. 

 

“I’m not sure,” John answered honestly. 

 

John kissed him again, slowly letting his tongue brush over Bane’s scarred lips. Bane moaned, chasing John’s lips as he backed away. Before he knew it he was easing his leg over Bane’s to straddle his waist. 

 

John pulled his shirt over his head before licking back into Bane’s mouth, Bane’s hands coming up to grip John’s hips. John felt Bane getting hard against the back of his thigh, his own cock growing harder.

 

“Stop me if I hurt you,” John whispered, bracing himself on Bane’s shoulders as he rolled his hips. 

 

Bane sucked in a sharp breath, his hands leading John’s hips. “I want to take you,” Bane whispered, his voice growing husky.

 

John thought about it, Bane’s thick cock filling him, his own dick twitched, leaking precome. “We will have to be careful,” John warned.

 

Bane nodded, his thumb tracking the outline of John’s length through his underwear swirling around the wet spot at the head. John shivered, moving to the side long enough to work his underwear off before straddling Bane’s hips again. John reached into his bedside drawer, pulling out his bottle of lube, over half empty with use.

 

Bane took the bottle from him, popping the cap and spreading some over his fingers. John braced his hands on the headboard, lifting his hips, letting Bane’s hand slide between his legs. 

 

A moan slipped past John’s lips as one thick finger filled him. It had been ages since he had let someone fuck him, and the thought of riding Bane caused more precome to dribble down his cock. 

 

Bane captured John’s lips as he slipped another finger inside, swallowing his cries. John rode Bane’s fingers, reveling in the stretch. Bane hummed, his other hand coming to wrap around John’s throat, squeezing gently, as he crooked his fingers.

 

John gasped, sparks of pleasure traveling through his body. Bane worked his prostate mercilessly while easing a third finger in his hole. John’s breath was ragged as he reached back, supporting himself on one trembling arm to work one of his own fingers inside himself. The stretch was almost too much, but John knew he needed it to take Bane’s cock. 

 

    Bane’s hand on his throat squeezed tighter, adding to the puddle of precome collecting on Bane’s stomach. John thrust forward seeking friction but finding only air before pushing back on their fingers. He needed Bane now before he ended things way to quickly.

 

    “Bane, please, I’m going to come if you don’t stop. I want you inside me,” John whined, Bane restricting his breath even more before letting his hand fall from John’s throat.

 

    Bane grunted, slipping his fingers free and working his pants down, his other hand moving to hold John’s hole open. John helped spread more lube over his length, shaking as Bane lined himself up. 

 

    John couldn’t suppress his moan as he slowly sank down Bane’s cock. Bane’s chest glistened with sweat as John watched him struggle not to thrust up into him before he was ready. 

 

    The stretch was incredible. John felt like he would never be able to take all of Bane’s cock, the relentless slide seemed to never end.  When John bottomed out he felt full to bursting, he took slow breaths waiting for the burning stretch to pass. John tried to suppress how hard he was shaking. 

 

    Bane’s hand on his ass squeezed tight enough to leave marks as he ever so slowly pulled out before thrusting back in. John cried out, steadying himself on Bane’s shoulders before trying to rolling his hips into Bane’s next thrust. Bane’s hands explored, rough thumbs teasing John’s nipples.

 

    John did his best just to hold on as Bane took possession of John’s body with deep thrusts. 

 

    John leaned back, bracing himself on Bane’s knees, changing the angle so that every thrust brushed over his prostate driving him closer and closer. John thought he might be able to come just from Bane fucking him when Bane’s hand slipped around his cock stroking in time with his thrusts. It was too much, John’s body arched as his stuttered to a stop. 

 

    “Oh god, Bane!” John nearly screamed as he came. His whole body convulsed as he painted Bane’s chest with come, each deep thrust driving another rope of come from John’s body. Finally, John’s arms gave out, his body falling limp. 

 

    Bane growled, gathering John against his chest as his thrusts lost their rhythm. John found his lips swallowing Bane’s cry as he came, burying himself as deep as he could inside him, leaving his mark. 

 

    John moaned, his dick giving a valiant twitch at the feeling of Bane throbbing inside of him. John stroked his fingers over Bane’s scalp as his body relaxed. They sat there for a moment, gasping against each other’s lips, come cooling between them. 

 

    Soon, John could sense Bane’s discomfort, letting his cock slip from him as he shifted his weight off him. Bane grunted in pain, clenching his jaw. 

 

    “You should have told me you were hurting,” John said with a sigh. 

 

    “Feeling you climax around me was worth the pain,” Bane muttered pressing a kiss to John’s forehead. “Pain will fade. This memory will not.” 

 

    Questions rolled around inside John’s head as he moved to clean them up. By the time he slipped his underwear back on and climbed back in bed with Bane, he couldn’t hold back anymore. 

 

    “What are we doing?” John asked. Bane’s fingers traced along John’s side. “This cat and mouse game has gone on long enough.”

 

    “I think we were both on a hunt to find ourselves and found each other along the way.” Bane whispered. 

 

    “Yeah, maybe you’re right.” John pulled the blanket over the both of them. He wasn’t sure what the future would bring, but for the first time in almost a year he wasn’t afraid of what would come. 


End file.
